


Anger and Agony

by reigningqueenofwords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Mentions of Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 05:00:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12074007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Summary: Sam is haunted by your memory.





	Anger and Agony

**Author's Note:**

> First posted on reigningqueenofwords.tumblr.com

Sam sat up straight, soaked in sweat and breathing hard. Another night, another nightmare. He flopped back on his bed, and let out a sigh. Glancing at the alarm clock, he threw the covers back. Even if he went back to sleep now, he’d be lucky to sneak in another hour.

As he moved around his empty two- bedroom house, he sighed. Everything reminded him of you. As he waited for his coffee to brew,  his eyes scanned the kitchen. 

_“Sam!” You giggled as he twirled you before pulling you back to his chest. He had a huge grin on his face as his arm was around your waist, the two of you dancing to nothing at all. He dipped you, peppering kissses on your neck, just to hear you laugh again._

A sad smile played on his lips as he sighed and turned to pour his coffee. His sweat pants hung low on his hips as he moved toward the living room. Stopping, he looked over to the front door, the pain etched on his face.

_You were over his shoulder, trying to hold your skirt down. “Welcome home, baby.” He grinned as he put  you down. You wrapped your arms around his waist, smiling up at him. Cupping your face in his hands, he leaned down and kissed you._

_“How about we go and really make this feel like home?” You grinned, wiggling your eyebrows._

_“I like how you think.” He shifted, picking you up bridal style._

_Your hands went around his neck. “To our chambers, my good sir!” You laughed._

Shaking it off, he moved to the couch and sat down, grabbing the remote. He leaned back and put his feet up on the coffee table. Flipping through the channels, he finally settled on the Tonight Show. The remote was tossed to the side, knowing that he wouldn’t bother shutting it off any time soon.

_You were straddling his lap in an old t-shirt, hair in a messy bun as you kissed him deeply. His hands were resting on your smooth thighs, enjoying having you so close._

_Pulling away from the kiss, you looked him in the eyes. “So, I have something to tell you, Sammy.” You ran your fingers through his hair._

_“Oh, what’s that?” He grinned._

_“You’re going to be a daddy.” The happiness and joy was radiating off of you._

_He pulled you in for a loving kiss. “Really?” He asked, his forehead against yours._

_You nodded. “Yeah. I’m thirteen weeks. I wanted to wait until I was past the first trimester to tell you.”_

Sam let his head fall back, tears threatening to fall. Everything he had ever wanted was in his grasp, and he let it slip through his fingers like sand.

* * *

He had no idea how long he sat there before there was a knock at his door. Setting his coffee down, he moved to answer it. “Dean?” He was surprised as he opened the door. “Uh, come in.” He stepped aside.

Dean grinned. “Came to see my baby brother’s new place and meet my sister-in-law. Where is she?”

Sam clenched his jaw. “I’ve been here _three_ years, Dean. It’s not ‘new’. And… she’s gone.” He sighed, moving back to the living room. Sitting down, he hung his head.

“What, she find someone better looking?” Dean teased. “Oh, no…You found out she was cheating because she got knocked up.”

Without thinking, Sam picked up the coffee mug and threw it at his older brother. Dean ducked just in time, causing the mug to hit the wall behind him and shatter. The lark liquid quickly stained the wallpaper as it dripped. “She _died_!” Sam yelled, his eyes showing his pain. “It’s my fucking fault!”

Dean stared at his little brother, in shock. He hadn’t heard about that, or he wouldn’t have even brought it up. “Look, I’m sorry, man.”

“Just get out.” His voice was low.

“I’m your brother. I’m supposed to help you through this shit. Why didn’t you ever _call_?”

Sam scoffed. “Yeah. Right.” He got up, crossing his arms over his chest. “That would have been a _real_ fun fucking phone call. ’ _Hey, Dean, look, I know you’re pissed that I took off…but I got my wife and our unborn daughter killed.._ ’ That’s something I really wanted to do.” His eyes were overflowing with agony, and anger. All towards himself.  "She’s like this ghost haunting my dreams with a sad song and murderous eyes. **_Every. Single. Night._** “

Dean glared at him. “You know I would have fucking been there for you!” He shouted.

“It’s in the past. You found out, now _go_.” Sam ground out. “You saw my house, and you can’t meet her…there’s no point in you sticking around.” He moved to the kitchen to get something to clean up the coffee mug and the spilled contents.

He heard the door slam and sighed. He knew that Dean wouldn’t stay. He’d go off, hit up a bar, and Sam wouldn’t see him again for a long time. If ever.

Once that was cleaned up, Sam opened his fridge and grabbed the half-empty bottle of Jack. It was his night off, so getting drunk when he was supposed to be on his way to work didn’t matter. He couldn’t even be bothered to leave the kitchen. His back was to the doors under the sink as he opened the bottle, tossing the cap aside. Taking a swig, he wondered if the guilt would ever fade.

_“Morning, beautiful.” Sam smiled, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist._

_You turned your head to the side, kissing him gently. “Morning, handsome.”_

_His lips brushed your neck as his hands rested on your tiny bump. “So, I had an idea…”_

_“Uh oh. Should I be worried?” You teased._

_“Let’s get married.”_

_Setting the spatula down, you turned to him. “See, I thought when you proposed that’s what we planned to do.”_

_He grinned. “I mean today.” Your eyebrows went up. “I don’t care about all the whistles and bells. All that matters is us. Let’s go down to city hall, and make you my wife.” His eyes twinkled at the idea. “You’re almost seventeen weeks pregnant, and I’d love for us to be married before our first child makes their appearance.” He chuckled._

_Your hand went behind his head and pulled him into a gentle kiss. “Yes!” You laughed. “But first, let me eat. Your child is demanding sustenance.”_

Taking another swig, he felt that familiar pain in his chest. Your one year wedding anniversary would have been the week before. The two of you would be raising your daughter. The house would be full of love, and laughter. Now, it was hollow, and full of despair.

He went to put the bottle to his lips and groaned when nothing came out. “ ** _Fuck_**!” He said, throwing the bottle across the room, not caring when it shattered.

Slowly, he got up and made his way to his room. Sam paused when he reached the door, the tears finally stinging his eyes, slipping down his cheeks. This was the room that ended his marriage, and destroyed his life. He couldn’t bring himself to change anything, so every day he was reminded of what he’d done. He deserved it.

_You walked in the front door, coming home early from work. You wanted to surprise Sam with an afternoon out. Slowly shutting the door, you furrowed your brows. Thinking he was just in the bedroom watching porn, you shook your head and slipped off your coat. Once you’d hung it up, you walked through the house, to your shared room._

_What you found, though, broke your heart. There was Sam, underneath some blonde. “Sam?” You breathed out, tears overflowing from your eyes._

_His eyes shot to the door way and the blonde turned. Your hand went to your stomach automatically. Here you were, thirty weeks pregnant with his daughter, and he was cheating on you. “Babe, wait!” He yelled as you turned and walked out._

_You grabbed your coat on the way out, ignoring his calls as he stumbled up the hall , trying to get his sweats on. Just as he reached the door, he heard the squealing of tires. His heart dropped as he ran out into the snow barefoot, and shirtless. “Y/N!” He yelled, seeing you laying on the icy road._

_A man got out of the car and rushed to her side as he called 911. Sam ran over, dropping to his knees. “You know her, sir?” He asked as the phone rang._

_Sam nodded, sobbing. “She’s my wife.” He whispered, placeing his hand over hers were it was on her stomach._

_The paramedics drove away with her in the back, saying that she died with in minutes. Sam had to be led back inside by a police officer so he wouldn’t get hypothermia. He felt numb. Jess was coming out of the bedroom dressed as he walked back in. She had stayed in the back as long as she could. She placed her hand on his cheek gently, trying to comfort him._

_His eyes locked with hers. “Get out.” He ground out. It was really the only thing he had said aside from answering questions. While he understood that he was to blame, part of him wanted to blame Jess, too. He couldn’t stand to look at her._

* * *

Dean was staying at a local motel, having stayed in town. He hoped to try again with Sam. He needed his little brother, more than he would like to admit. Sipping his coffee, he was looking through the newspaper.

Sam’s picture caught his eye, and so did the article.

**Local Man Commits Suicide**

_Samuel Winchester, beloved friend, committed suicide on Tuesday, October 3rd. Following the death of his wife, and unborn child, Winchester kept to himself. His friends described him as recently depressed and…_

Dean stopped reading, shocked. Out of everyone he had ever met, Sam was the last person he would have guessed to do that. Grabbing his phone he took a deep breath and hit ‘1’ on the speed dial. “Dad? I know I said I was on a case. I lied. I went to see Sammy.” He swallowed back the tears. “He’s dead, Dad.”


End file.
